Building Towns for Literary Native Sons

Over the years, several of the countries that made up the former Yugoslavia—and the ethnic groups within them, including Serbs and Croats—have claimed the Nobel laureate Ivo Andric as a native son. Now the Republika Srpska, in Bosnia, has gone so far as to build an entire town in his honor. Andricgrad, as it will be known, is being constructed along the Drina River in the town of Visegrad, under the direction of the filmmaker Emir Kusturica, who is financing the project along with the Srpska government. The place will be tiny—just seventeen-thousand square meters (a bit more than four acres). Still, town-building of any sort is a serious undertaking: plans for Andricgrad include stone streets, gates, and a tower, along with various arts venues dedicated to Andric and his work, according to the Guardian. Kusturica has identified Andricgrad an artistic undertaking unto itself, but it has practical ends as well; the new town will serve as a set for his upcoming films. The scheme suggests the ambition and madness of Charlie Kaufman’s 2008 film “Synecdoche, New York,” in which a theatre director played by Philip Seymour Hoffman devotes years of his life to creating a city-within-a-city, populated by actors, doppelgängers, and other various mischief-makers.

Meanwhile, officials in the Republika Srpska are already touting the emerging town, which is slated for completion in 2014, as a major tourist attraction. That got us thinking about some spots in the United States that might benefit by erecting a town in honor of a literary hero. Here are a few ideas:

Fitz, New York: Following the demolition this spring of Land’s End, the Long Island estate said to be the inspiration for “The Great Gatsby,” summering Fitzgerald fans need a new destination. Developers could cash in with a small park, featuring such attractions as the Jordan Baker Par 3 and the Tom Buchanan Raceway. Ad slogan: “No traffic. All the lights are green.”

Rothlandia, New Jersey: Fans can already take a “Philip Roth’s Newark” bus tour (the author has even made a few appearances). Why not revitalize a part of the city with a walled community featuring a couple of blocks restored to their forties and fifties condition, full of equal parts innocence, dread, patriotism, sexual confusion, and nuclear menace. Ad slogan: “Goodbye, Columbus? Hello, good times!” (Extend the vacation with a day trip to Bascombeville, N.J., home to Richard Ford’s sportswriter, real-estate developer, and endurer of American holidays.)

Melville, Massachusetts: Harpooning seminars, a build-your-own-peg-leg station, and all the rooms in the main guest house feature narrow single beds, perfect for snuggling close to a loved one, or tattooed cannibals who appear unannounced at night. Ad slogan: “A whale of a time.” (Rejected ad slogan: “Sink all coffins and all hearses to one common pool!”)

Gassburgh, Somewhere in the Heart of the Heart of the Country: It’d be best built in Indiana, but would fit in anywhere among the northern middle states where there is room for a town “exactly fifty houses, trailers, stores, and miscellaneous buildings long, but in places no streets deep.” Not recommended for those seeking warm weather, or for newlyweds. Perfect for older singles “in retirement from love.” Ad slogan: “The bitter taste of the past,” or “Things have changed since then, but in none of the respects mentioned.” (For more Midwestern bookishness, visit The Real Winesburg, Ohio.)

Wolfe’s Hill, North Carolina: Big city folks can stop in to this charming backwater to mock the locals, and get death threats in return. Ad slogan: “So much fun, who would want to go home again?”

Have any ideas for other imaginary literary cities? Share them in the comments below.

Ian Crouch is a contributing writer and producer for newyorker.com. He lives in Maine.